


Of Stray Puppies and Superheroes

by ArgentLives



Series: Across Every Universe (You are Home) [17]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Animal Shelters, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-26
Updated: 2015-09-26
Packaged: 2018-04-23 10:34:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4873510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArgentLives/pseuds/ArgentLives
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I’m usually in a hurry," he smiles cryptically, as if indulging himself in some inside joke, "but it’s raining out tonight, and it’s cold, and I couldn’t just leave him outside alone." He gestures helplessly to the puppy he’s just placed on the counter, and she feels herself melt a little at his thoughtfulness.</p><p>"Alright, fine. I’ll let you slide," she huffs, scratching the puppy behind its ear, "but only because you’ve come bearing a puppy. My one weakness."</p><p>He grins at her, his smile warm and bright and incredibly adorable, and she’s vaguely aware of the raindrops still clinging to his impossibly long eyelashes. Maybe puppies aren’t her only weakness, after all.</p><p> </p><p>[Iris works at a pet shelter, and she finally comes face-to-face with the mysterious stranger who's been saving stray pets off the streets of Central City]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Stray Puppies and Superheroes

**Author's Note:**

> written for the prompt: "AU where Iris works at a pet shelter and every time Barry comes in he somehow ends up with another animal. (Although I misread this prompt and took it as “every time Barry comes in he somehow ends up dropping off another animal”)"
> 
> this is also one of the first WA fics I ever wrote so pls be gentle~

Iris is working late the first time it happens. It’s up to her to close everything up at the end of the day, seeing as she owns the place, but she doesn’t mind—she’s really good with the animals, and she loves her job almost as much as she loves being her own boss.

It’s eerie, though, when after everyone has left, there’s a knock on the door instead of the normal chime alerting her that someone has entered the building. People don’t knock here, or wait to be let in—they’re supposed to just walk in and out as they please.

It’s even more eerie when she opens the door and there’s no one there.

"Hello…?" she calls out cautiously, craning her neck to look out the doorway and sweeping her gaze left and right.

She’s about to give up looking, to close the door and write the noise off as having been a figment of her imagination, when a small bark draws her attention downward.

"Hey, little guy," she croons, picking up the puppy that’s been left on the doorstep. 

The dog is thin and sickly-looking, its fur is mangled and matted, and it’s obvious that it’s been abandoned and living on its own for quite a while.

"Let’s get you inside and all cleaned up," she says, ruffling its fur, wondering who on Earth could have left it there. She’s pretty sure it didn’t just appear out of thin air, and in its current state it certainly couldn’t have gotten here itself. Plus, it also just so happens that dogs don’t knock.

She surveys the area once more, looking for the mysterious dog-dropper, until the puppy in her arms starts to whimper and squirm uncomfortably, forcing her to give up her search. She’s got more important things to attend to at the moment, she thinks to herself, closing the door behind her.

A few days go by without incident, and she almost forgets about it. Almost.

But then it happens again, only this time it’s a sad-looking little kitten waiting for her out on the doorstep, and there’s a little sticky note— _'Please help her!'—_ on the floor next to it. And still, no one there.

She shuts the door with more force than necessary, frustrated, thinking that this can’t possibly happen again.

But it does, and then it keeps happening, from dogs to cats to everything in between, all looking in desperate need of a home and all without a person there to speak for them. The only evidence that she has that a person even  _is_  behind them being there in the first place is the occasional note, and the fact that animals generally don’t know to haul themselves over to the local shelter if they need a place to stay.

Finally, after a few weeks go by and she’s starting to think she might need to invest in more cages, or maybe even expand the shelter on the whole to accommodate the recent influx of animals, she catches the culprit.

Well, she doesn’t exactly catch him—it’s more like he lets himself be caught. 

It’s pouring out, and she’s dreading having to venture outside, to make the whopping ten-foot trek to her car in the driveway in this rain, when she hears the familiar knock on the door.

She sighs, slightly annoyed but also slightly excited (she’s gotten used to this routine, and it feels good to know that someone is looking out for the strays and rejects of Central City, making sure they’re somewhere that they’ll be taken care of) and makes her way towards it, wondering what kind of animal it’ll be this time. 

She’s almost has a heart attack when she opens the door and it’s a guy that’s standing there in front of her, a small, scared-looking puppy nestled in his arms.

"You!" she shouts, jabbing an accusing finger at him, because no one comes to the shelter this late, and she’s sure that this must be the person she’s been looking for.

The guy blinks at her. He’s drenched, dripping wet from the rain, but somehow the dog is completely dry. Iris notices that he’s got his jacket wrapped around it, and she can’t help the pang of affection she feels at the sight.

"Um. What?"

She grabs his elbow, steering him inside and towards the back room. He looks so sweet and innocent, and the puppy-dog eyes he’s giving her could give the actual puppy in his arms a run for its money, that she almost considers dropping the matter. Almost, but not quite. He’s not fooling her, and she’s not giving in that easily.

"Don’t play dumb with me. You’re the one that’s been dropping all these animals here and then disappearing! It’s getting pretty packed in here because of you."

"Oh, yeah," he says, rubbing the back of his neck, "that. Well, better here then out on the street, right? I feel so bad when I see them—I can’t just leave them there to die."

Iris nods appreciatively, before remembering the reason for her frustration over this mystery-man in the first place.

"Okay, I’m not disagreeing with you, but why do you just drop them off and leave? Why not come in and give them to me in person? Like you’re doing right now, actually."

"I’m usually in a hurry," he smiles cryptically, as if indulging himself in some inside joke, "but it’s raining out tonight, and it’s cold, and I couldn’t just leave him outside alone." He gestures helplessly to the puppy he’s just placed on the counter, and she feels herself melt a little at his thoughtfulness.

"Alright, fine. I’ll let you slide," she huffs, scratching the puppy behind its ear, "but only because you’ve come bearing a puppy. My one weakness."

He grins at her, his smile warm and bright and incredibly adorable, and she’s vaguely aware of the raindrops still clinging to his impossibly long eyelashes. Maybe puppies aren’t her only weakness, after all.

"On one condition, though. Next time you rescue some poor animal off the street, don’t just knock and then leave. You have to come inside with them from now on. Deal?"

"Deal," he says, grinning even wider and shaking her outstretched hand. "I’m Barry, by the way."

"Iris," she responds, smiling.

 

* * *

 

Barry keeps his word, and soon enough he’s stopping by almost daily, sometimes to drop off another abandoned pet or malnourished stray, and sometimes just to check up on the one’s he’s already given her, see if any have been adopted and given a home yet, and chat for a while. She would never admit it, but it’s easily become one of the best parts of her day—she always looks forward to his visits.

She also quickly becomes suspicious of how exactly he manages to rescue so many animals in such a short period of time, especially when she’s sure he’s got to have a job and a life of his own. 

"How do you find all of these animals, anyway?" she asks one day, curiosity getting the better of her. "Honestly, it’s like you patrol the city for them or something."

Barry’s laugh sounds oddly forced.

"Um, no, I don’t patrol the city for them. I mean, I don’t patrol the city at all, that’d be…that’d be unrealistic."

"Okay…" Iris replies, unconvinced, and it becomes a thing—her asking questions, him evading them. Still, even when she suspects he’s keeping something from her, she really likes having him around.

 

* * *

 

He bursts in one day, looking frantic and ashen-faced, something large and unmoving in his arms, and she immediately senses that something isn’t right. 

"Barry? What’s wrong?" 

She puts a calming hand on his arm, and he lays the dog he’s been carrying down. 

He looks at her, pleading, struggling for words.

"Please, Iris, is there anything you can do? I was…I think I might have been to late, and I don’t think she’s breathing…" he chokes out, on the verge of tears.

It only takes one glance for Iris to confirm Barry’s fears—she’s not an expert, but it’s obvious that the dog is long gone.

"Barry…I’m not a vet. And even if I was, there’s nothing I can do for her. She’s…she’s already dead."

Barry covers his mouth and nods, like he already knew but didn’t want to believe it, and Iris feels her heart break as he starts to cry.

It takes her a second before she realizes why her throat feels like it’s closing up, to realize that she’s crying, too.

"How did it happen?" she asks, wiping her eyes.

"There was a fire. I think it must have been all the smoke. There was so much of it," Barry sniffs, a faraway look in his eye as he says it, remembering. Even through her grief Iris can’t contain her disbelief.

"You went into a burning building to save a dog?" she asks incredulously.

Barry’s eyes go wide and he shakes his head, backpedaling.

"No, no, I saw it…I saw the fire. I got—I mean, everyone else got out okay, but I couldn’t—they couldn’t get the dog out in time. I found her… after, on the side of the road, and I didn’t know where else to take her. But I guess…I guess I was too slow."

Iris’s suspicion peaks at his fumbled explanation, and she takes notice of the burn mark on his cheek, and the soot coating his clothes. She remembers overhearing her employees talking about something on the news before they’d left, about a family being rescued by a fire by a mysterious red blur.

Normally she would question him about it, but Barry looks so unbelievably miserable that she just doesn’t have the heart to push him for answers right now.

Instead, she steps forward and wraps her arms around him, hugging him tight.

"Hey, it’s not your fault. You did everything you could," she says softly, hoping to console him. She hates seeing him this upset.

At first, Barry freezes at her touch, and Iris worries that she might have crossed a line. After a few tense moments, however, just as she’s about to let him go, he wraps his arms around her and hugs her back. He smells like smoke, and Iris’s suspicions are all but confirmed, but she tries not to think about it, tries to just let it go and appreciate his warmth. 

She rubs soothing circles around his back, and lets him cry.

"Hey, listen, I’m about to close up anyway—why don’t you come hang at my place for a little bit? I’m ordering take-out tonight and binge-watching crappy reality TV shows, and we could both use the company. Plus it might help take your mind off things."

She feels him nod against her shoulder, and when he pulls away from their hug, he gives her a watery smile.

"Yeah. Yeah, I’d like that."

 

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted on my [tumblr](http://bisexualiriswest.tumblr.com/), as most of these prompt fills are.


End file.
